


Still Here

by ThePhantomJoke



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 13:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePhantomJoke/pseuds/ThePhantomJoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian has a nightmare, and has to check on something or rather someone before he has the peace of mind to fall back asleep. A look into one of the teen's rare moments of vulnerability.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Here

Damian moved across the hallway silently, not even the soft pad of his footsteps sounding against the plush carpet. He just wanted to look, to make sure, it had all seemed so real. Dick never left his door locked, a silent permission to come to him at any time, he’d promised Damian he’d be there for him whenever he needed him. Not that Damian would ever admit that he did. Opening the door, he was thankful when it didn’t squeak, the teenager took a few steps forward, moving towards the edge of the bed to see the man swathed with blankets. Grayson was still there. How foolish, it was nothing more than a dream, what would Father say if he’d seen him act like this?

The teen let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, watching as Richard jolted, startled awake by what? His presence? “Nngh, Dami?” His voice was still laced with sleep and soft, even as he looked across the dark room at the teenager. Eyes like they had been too heavy, fluttered before focusing, staring at the boy with barely masked concern, “What’s wrong?” 

He huffed and crossed his arms, expression hardening, “Nothing Grayson, why does anything have to be wrong?” It seemed foolish as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but there was nothing he could do to take them back now.

“You’re in my room…” A quick glance to the bright numbers on his nightstand, “…at nearly four a.m.”

Damian fell silent, he didn’t have an answer, and didn’t wish to talk about this further. About to turn on his heel and forget the incident, he was shocked as Grayson lifted the edge of his blanket, offering the space there in a blatant invitation. “C’mere Little D.” His voice was so warm, and he looked so genuine, like he wouldn’t tease him. 

Damian weighed his options quickly, he could go back to his room or give in to what Grayson was offering and what he himself secretly wanted, “Tt-”. He crawled in beside the acrobat, pleased when the words came that he really needed to hear, like the man knew, “S’okay baby bat, ‘M here.” He had probably meant them to soothe any nightmare, having no idea that him not being here was exactly what Damian was fearful over.

It came out harsher than he’d intended, “I know that.” The arm slid around him, a warm pleasant weight and he was pulled closer. Damian didn’t bother with a protest, he went willingly and closed his eyes. He breathed deeply, it was so comforting, the soft smell of soap and aftershave that Alfred often bought him. The scent seemed like it was everywhere. It was intense; so different from the barely there whiffs he normally caught. Grayson must have showered before bed, and even the sheets and pillows smelled like him.

His fingers clenched, digging into the acrobat’s shirt, as if he could hold him here by force of will alone. Dick was already asleep once more, breaths even and deep. That was comforting too, and Damian took the opportunity for what it was, basking in the man’s presence and burying his face into his chest. Dick didn’t leave him, he hadn’t died, he was right there. Arms tightened marginally around him, but Damian was content to ignore it, surely it was a reflex in the man’s sleep. 

Eventually the tugs of sleep were too hard to ignore, not with his fear banished. He slipped comfortably into the awaited darkness, no dreams startling him awake and forcing him to check on his mentor, just peace.

The soft light of dawn just a few hours later spurred Damian awake, his cheek pressed into the soft cotton shirt he still held onto. Embarrassment flooded him, and he untangled the octopus Grayson had apparently become overnight. Goodness, it was called spooning, not forking. Shoving the leg between his away gently, Damian crawled out of the large bed. He spared a last look over his shoulder as he shut the acrobat’s door behind him, shuffling back to his own room in the light of dawn. Nobody had to know about that, surely Grayson wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone. His secret was safe.


End file.
